


Dark and heart obsessed

by Ischa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Rape, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new, young hunter gives an old enemy a chance to fuck things up.</p><p><i>“Fuck you! You knew what was going on!”<br/>“I didn’t.” Castiel doesn’t look at him.<br/>“You did, with Sam!” he answers hotly, shoving Castiel against the wall, like he did with Ruby/Michael, his fingers around Castiel’s throat. Castiel winces.<br/>“You never want to know what’s wrong with him,” he answers. So true. Too close to home. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark and heart obsessed

**Title:** Dark and heart obsessed  
 **Pairing:** Sam/Michael, Dean/Castiel and Dean/Michael one-sided  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Summary:** A new, young hunter gives an old enemy a chance to fuck things up.  
 **Warning(s):** rape, violence, character death, sex, spoilers for S 1-4  
 **Author’s Notes:** Michael is not really an original character; I stole him from “Something wicked”.  
Thanks to schoko_dei and samidha for letting me ramble and despair and to tygermine for her being an awesome beta.  
Written for the Anti-Christmas at sammessiah .  
 **Word Count:** 7.167  
 **Beta:** tygermine  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real.

\--+--  
~One~  
Michael recognises the car.  
Even after nearly five years he recognises it.  
It’s still the same, dirtier maybe, more beat up, but it’s the car. Over all these years he couldn’t forget the car. (Among other things like nightmarish soul-sucking dark figures.)

He puts his coffee on the bench he’s sitting on, pulls his sidekick out and calls Ash. He just gets the mailbox but that’s fine, he doesn’t really know what to say anyway, he just calls so his brother will not worry. Not that it helps much, Michael knows Ash doesn’t really understand why Michael isn’t home. Same goes for his mother. And Michael won’t, can’t explain it to him. Life is scary enough as it is. Ash is only 13 after all.

He stares at the car as he puts his phone back in his jeans’ pocket. His hands itch to just touch it. Slide his fingers through the dirt and feel the warm black metal. When he thinks about it, he wanted to do that all those years ago, but there were more pressing matters at hand.  
Like rescuing his brother.  
It’s not that they owe him anything – expect maybe his innocence and his life. (In the end it was his own decision), but it’s not their fault either, even if he’s sometimes bitter, he knows this.

He gets up and looks in both directions before he crosses the street and then he just stands there for a minute looking at it.  
It’s surreal.  
For a moment he thinks it will disappear under his touch. It doesn’t: of course it doesn’t. The hood is warm from the sun and he leaves smudges in the road dirt as he presses his fingers against it. So, still alive, he thinks with a smile and then he turns and gets into his own car. He has a job to do.

~+~  
“What is that kid doing to my car?” Dean asks, wiping ketchup from his lip with a napkin he tosses on the table as he makes to stand up.

“Looking? It’s a nice car…” Sam answers without even looking up from his laptop, the North Carolina sun lighting up his hair in an almost ironic halo.

“Yeah…maybe he wants to steal it.”

“I don’t think so Dean,” Sam says, and Dean knows he’s rolling his eyes at him. He’s staring at the kid, but that kid doesn’t seem to want to steal his car. He just stands there, caressing the hood. “Seems he appreciates it…” He can’t keep the surprise from his voice.

“Yeah…” and Dean lets it go, they have more pressing issues to deal with. “So, what do you have?”

“Well, not much?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks before biting into his burger.

“What I said…there might be a case in Pennsylvania, if you want to check it out?”

Dean nods, of course he wants to check it out. What else would he do with his life? Even after the whole apocalypse fiasco, things aren’t quiet. It’s not that they won or anything (even if Dean is sure that Castiel counts it as a win), they didn’t die.  
And well, saved the world and all that crap, but Dean doesn’t expect any thanks. He and Sam are alive and that has to count for something.  
Right?  
Besides the world at large didn’t even know about the apocalypse, so…he shrugs it off and nods again.  
“Yeah…”

“I thought so,” Sam answers taking a sip of coffee.

Dean isn’t sure why Sam is still with him. Maybe the answer is that it’s Sam. Maybe Sam is afraid, now that he knows what he can do. To demons. To people, angels. Dean really doesn’t want to think about it. It’s still in his head more often than not and maybe that’s why they keep doing what they’re doing.

~+~  
He nearly messed up and got himself killed. Maybe, he thinks, if Ash were older…but no. That is his secret and Ash doesn’t need to know what is there, hiding in the dark. His thoughts wander to the car again as he’s lying on a hotel bed staring at the ceiling. It would be easier if he wasn’t alone. He knows that. God, he thinks, he is too young to do this shit. (But once he figured things out, there wasn’t really a way to turn back. He supposes it’s how they all start.)

He rolls over, because staring at the ceiling is kinda boring and besides…no, it’s just boring. His arm hurts, but it stopped bleeding a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s serious. (And when he visits Ash the next time, he will lie about it too.) He wished he could see them again. Once. Maybe ask some questions…he sighs and closes his eyes. Whatever he thinks, there is a werewolf two states over. He thinks it’s a werewolf and he hopes that all the stuff you can find on the internet about those beasts is true. Because if it’s one, it’s his first and he doesn’t want to mess that up.

~+~  
“Bobby called.” Dean says as his brother opens the car door, shoving a bag at Dean.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Dean inspects the contents of the bag, digging around for his piece of pie.

“What did he want?”

“You were right about the job…”

“And?” Sam waits while Dean takes a large bite out of his cherry pie.

“Werewolves.” Dean says around the half emasculated fruit pastry, waiting and watching for Sam’s reaction. Madison is still a touchy subject sometimes. But in the last few months, anything they spoke about could be a touchy subject. That’s what lies do to people.

“Okay.” Sam says, staring at the road.

“We can skip that one.” Dean says. They really could, there are other people Bobby could call – they aren’t the only hunters in business.

“No, we’ll do it. How dangerous can a werewolf be after…” Sam can’t bring himself to say it, as if the word apocalypse is peanut butter that gets stuck to the roof of his mouth and he can’t dig it out.  
Dangerous, Dean thinks, not evil. Because they’re not. It’s a bit like with an animal, he thinks. Or with Sam.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Sam says not looking at Dean. It’s something Dean is familiar with by now, Sam not looking at him, as if…he doesn’t know and they don’t talk about it. Because they never talk about anything until shit hits the fan and then it’s too late to do anything, except deal. You’d think they learned their lesson…

“Okay,” Dean answers, starts the car and leaves Northern Carolina behind.

~+~  
Ha, Michael thinks, because honestly HA! Someone might have liked to share that particular piece of information on the web. Shit, he thinks. He isn’t sure he can do that. He can’t just kill a man, because he might be…but he is a werewolf and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know that. Shit, shit, shit. He can’t deal with that. This is not how this is supposed to go. But if he doesn’t, it will kill other people and maybe infect someone and then…what then?  
He stares at the gun and doesn’t want to do it. And maybe…maybe that’s why nobody shares that important fucking nugget of information on the web. Because it would make you hesitate. He doesn’t have the time for that kind of doubt. He picks the gun up and takes a deep breath. It’s his fucking job and he will do it. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want someone else killed or turned.

~+~  
It’s pretty easy to track the werewolf down. Now that they know how this works. And they’re better, faster, experienced. And if Sam used his mojo occasionally to turn the tables? No one is keeping tabs anymore. Sam tries not to, Dean knows, but he is a junkie hooked on that bitch’s blood. Dean is glad he shot her when he had the opportunity. But he still slips sometimes. Like he doesn’t have anything or anyone who could anchor him to reality anymore. Even if their reality isn’t like other people’s. They play by other rules, Dean thinks, but they still play by the fucking rules, because if they don’t…he doesn’t want to think about that either.

They’re halfway down the alley when they hear the shot. Dean has the time to think ‘What the fuck?’ before he is running after Sam.  
The werewolf is lying motionless on the ground in a puddle of his own blood and in a corner, near a trash can is a boy, knees pulled up to his chest, face stained red with tears.  
Fuck, he thinks, fuck.

“What happened?” Dean asks sharply. He hates it when things go so out of hand.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam’s voice sounds soft and reassuringly steady as he looks at the boy, who doesn’t seem able to look at anything but the corpse.

“Kid!” Dean tries.

“Dean…” Sam says not taking his eyes from the boy, Dean follows his gaze. Yeah, great, the boy shot the werewolf. That’s how it looks. Maybe he tried to rob him or…Dean doesn’t know why kids kill people these days.

“What?” Dean snaps, his anger controlling his voice.

“I don’t know…” Sam says, getting down, stretching his hand out, the boy flinches and tries to get closer to the wall, which doesn’t work, because he is as close to it as humanly possible. He is shaking.

“It’s okay…” Sam tries, letting his hand drop.

“It’s not,” the boy says. There is steel in his voice, but it sounds too young. Just too fucking young, Dean thinks. His thoughts flash automatically to Sam.

“Are you hurt?”

“No…nothing I can’t deal with.” The kid says and something about his behaviour is so very familiar. Dean just can’t pin it down yet.

“You sure…did he…” Sam tries and the boy looks at him sharply and says clear and a bit annoyed:

“He didn’t bite me. I’m okay.”

And that’s the moment it hits Dean, this kid is a hunter. Fuck.  
“Your first werewolf?” he asks, putting his gun away; the kid nods.

“What?” Sam looks a bit lost.

“Where’s your car?” Dean asks, giving Sam a look and Sam keeps quiet.

“At the other side of the alley.”

“Okay, you think you can manage? Or…you know we could patch you up and…”  
The boy seems to think about it and then nods.

“Yeah…okay. Yeah.”

“Aren’t you a little young for a hunter? And a bit too trusting?” Dean jokes. He can feel the hypocrisy swirl up his throat and drip off his words.

“Yeah. I know you.” The boy answers with a grin. Sam gives Dean a hard look (half worry, half something else), but something about that kid, shit he just can’t pin it down. Besides a lot hunters have heard of them, they are kind of famous.

“Well, we don’t know you.” Sam says. His voice flat.

“I’m Michael.” The kid says and Dean laughs. Fuck, that’s funny. Of course that kid has an angel’s name. (And the looks.) “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…come on then.” He answers and offers his hand to help the kid up from the slimy city alley floor.  
Dean can see the muscle in Sam’s jaw jump, which always precedes a Sam hissyfit, but Dean doesn’t care. Everyday he feels them losing their humanity. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen to Sam the day he goes darkside. They’re holding on by their fingertips, and anything he can do to tighten his grip, he does, before it slips away completely. Hopefully he can remind Sam at the same time.  
Also, the kid looks pretty shaken and too fucking young to be doing this.

~Two~  
“Why?” Sam asks.

“I don’t know, because it’s the right fucking thing to do?” Dean answers. Michael is in the shower and maybe he will not hear a word of this conversation and if he does, hey, whatever. Everyone knows hunters aren’t the best people to hang out with, or the most trusting or sharing or shit like that. Ellen might be the exception, but when he thinks back to the first time he met her…maybe not.

“We don’t know him…he could be…”

“What? What could that kid possible be or do? We can deal with anything. You can deal with everything. Goddammit, he should be afraid of us. For fuck’s sake.” Dean answers and it’s true. Everyone should be afraid of them. They are fucking dangerous. Dean with his angel (even if he doesn’t know what the hell Castiel is doing half the time he’s ‘out’ these days.) and Sam with his demon blood and powers…

“I’m just…”

“I know.” Dean interrupts him again, because he does know. Sam is worried, he always is when he’s around people too long and he doesn’t trust anyone except Dean, he doesn’t even trust himself half the time. And Dean is grateful for that. It’s hard enough to know all these things about Sam and if he’d have been reckless (like he was with Ruby, that fucking bitch), Dean isn’t sure he could deal with it anymore.

~+~  
So, okay, that is not how this should have gone down, but it’s not that bad either. He is still alive and the werewolf is dead and he isn’t alone, which is totally a win. (He doesn’t think he could’ve slept alone at all after…after he killed that man, werewolf.) When he’s honest with himself, he hates it, he hates to be alone in this.  
He towels his hair and looks in the mirror. A long gash from his elbow to his wrist. It hurts like a bitch and it stinks when it comes in contact with water. He is glad someone will patch him up.

When he opens the door, his t-shirt half over his head he is met with silence. Okay, not good at all.  
“Ahm…thanks for the shower.” He says not looking at anyone.

“No problem.” Dean answers. “Now come here, we need to patch you up kid.” He is patting the place beside him as Sam silently hands him the first aid kit. Michael doesn’t hesitate.

“Thanks.” He says as he sits down, letting Dean clean the wound and stitch his skin together. It looks far better than the crappy job he did himself on his leg a few months ago.

“I’m going to fetch some food. Orders?” Sam asks. “Except pie…” he rolls his eyes at Dean, before pinning a glare at Michael.

“No, I…whatever is fine.” He answers.

“Be right back.” Sam says grabbing his keys and banging the door behind him.

“So…aren’t you a bit young for this, kid?” Dean asks, not looking at Michael. He focuses on getting the stitches as secure as possible. Sam was always better when it came to that.

“How old were you?” Michael counters. He doesn’t know how old Dean was, but he can imagine he’s doing it a long time by now.

“Too fucking young.” Dean says with a laugh. It sounds bitter. He has changed, Michael thinks. Still fierce, but different. Older, of course…and maybe, maybe…what if the rumours are true?

“I’m old enough.” Michael offers.

“Don’t think anyone is ever old enough for this shit.” Dean answers. “Until they’re too old.” He adds after a beat.

“Maybe…” Michael answers, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Wanna stay here?”

“I…what if Sam…” Michael says, Dean looks up.

“Ignore the big guy, his bark is worse than his bite.” Dean can’t help but feel that he just lied through his teeth.

“Okay.” He says quietly and hopes Dean understands how fucking grateful he is right now.

~+~  
Dean has no idea why he asked the kid to stay at all. The endless excuses he can choose from all seem lame. At the end of the day, he doesn’t want to be alone with Sam anymore. They need a buffer and this kid needs some rolemodels. Ok, maybe not rolemodels. Babysitters? Dean sighs softly to himself and drags his hands across his face. He suddenly feels dead tired.  
Sam isn’t surprised that Michael is staying in their room. He just arches an eyebrow and Dean shrugs.

“It seems like a good idea.” He says and Sam throws a pillow at him.

“I’m not sharing my bed.” Dean grins.

Sleeping with Michael in one bed is a bit like sleeping with Sam, when they were kids. (Of course it’s different in all the right ways, the smell, the shape and breathing.)  
It’s nice. It feels safe. Familiar.  
Normal.

~+~  
They fall into a routine somewhere around the fourth day. Somehow Michael just didn’t leave and they didn’t tell him to. Sam doesn’t seem to mind.  
For Dean it’s like having a little brother again, different than Sam ever was. (Different than Sam is now.) He learns fast and wants to know everything. And as long as they have Michael with them, Dean knows Sam will not use any demon-powers. It’s really a win/win situation. For all of them.

~+~  
Maybe, he thinks after, maybe he should have mentioned the ANGEL around week seven as it was pretty clear that Michael was sticking with them for a while. But he just forgot and well, who can blame him? He fell headfirst into hunting with a vigour he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe it was the mentor-role he found himself filling for Michael. Or maybe he was just having fun again. Castiel didn’t cross his mind…well, okay, maybe just once or twice, in a rare quiet moment between teaching Michael the quirks about vampires and keeping Sam from demon blood withdrawal hell.

“So, angels are real?” here Michael points at Castiel – which is totally impolite, but they let it slide, because, hi, angel, “And he’s one?”

“Yes.” Dean answers.

“He is your angel?” Michael wants to know. That kid is really fast on the uptake.

“Yeah…kind of.”

“And…he is what? Helping you guys?”

“No.” Sam says. He is still a bit bitter, he imagined them just differently and what with the whole apocalypse thing and what else went wrong between them. Sam isn’t Castiel’s biggest fan. But Dean kinda likes him.

“Yes.” Castiel says. His voice low and even, like always.

“Okay…” Michael looks uncertain.

“It’s complicated.” Dean answers.

“I figured.” Michael says with a small smile.

~+~  
So, okay, angels are real and he didn’t believe in god or the devil, but this is proof enough. Michael isn’t sure about the whole Dean/Castiel/Sam constellation, something doesn’t seem right, and something is different about Sam. He seems…darker. Michael can’t really put it into words, not even in his head.

~+~  
He is sitting in the backseat listening to his iPod and just doing nothing when he sees it, just a flicker of something and he must have made a sound, because Sam is turning and looking at him.  
“Nothing…I just. I thought…there was a girl…but.” He answers smiling a bit uncertain.

“A girl?”

“Yeah…”

Dean laughs. “Maybe you just need to get laid.” He says and Sam rolls his eyes. Michael stays silent, he isn’t sure he should say that he actually doesn’t like girls like that. Maybe…they would just kick him out and then, what would he do alone again? He likes it the way it is now. Crappy hotel rooms are just half that crappy when you’re sharing them with someone. And he likes not having to eat alone and to know that Dean will have his back when he needs it and that Sam covers for him when he’s eaten Dean’s last donut.

Sam takes him with when he goes to fetch food and Dean just waves them off. He wants to shower anyway.

“So…you saw a girl?”

“Yeah, I don’t know…maybe.”

“Could have been a random ghost. Not bothering anyone. It happens.” Sam answers.

“Oh…” he didn’t know that. There are lots of things he doesn’t know.

“Damn right.” Sam says and Michael jumps.

“Did I just say that out loud?”  
Sam nods, smiling.  
“Oh…”

“So…” Sam begins, his fingers drumming a beat, faintly familiar to Michael, maybe a song he heard on his iPod earlier.

“Yeah?”

“You…don’t actually like girls, do you?” Sam says, he isn’t looking at Michael and Michael is glad for that, he knows he’s blushing like mad.

“What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t…but, you know. I’ve seen how you look at Dean.”

“The same way you look at him.” Michael says and slaps his hand over his mouth a second later. Fuck! How could he say something like that?

“No…” it’s just a whisper. Michael doesn’t dare to look up. He messed up, he messed up so goddamned hard.

“Yeah…it is.” He answers and that’s when he knows something is very wrong.

“Michael…” It’s a warning, but he can’t stop saying all these things.

“You know how wrong that is; don’t you, Sammy?” Oh, god, he thinks, make me stop, please make me stop. But Sam doesn’t, he just stands there, as if he’s seeing Michael for the first time. Or someone else since a long time again.  
“I don’t blame you, he is hot.” And these aren’t his words and he claps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head.

“Michael?” Sam says softly and then even quieter “Jess?”

And what is that supposed to mean, he isn’t, but he says: “Yes, it’s been a long time, sweetheart, missed me?”

“Fuck, Jess!” Sam says and the next thing Michael knows is he’s being slammed into the wall and Sam is on him, Sam’s lips, Sam’s tongue, Sam’s hard body pressed against his and he, he doesn’t want that. Not with Sam, not like this. He tries, he tries to push Sam away, she keeps saying all these things between gasps and Sam doesn’t seem to care that Michael’s whole body language tells him to stop, to let him go.

“Yeah…Sam…” it’s his voice, but it’s not him. He wouldn’t; not ever.

~+~  
Something is strange about Michael when they come back. He runs into the bathroom the second he is inside.

“What the hell?” He asks, but Sam just shrugs.

“Don’t know.” And Dean doesn’t believe him. He knows Sam, he knows when Sam is lying to him, and he is lying now.

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.”  
Sam tries to dodge the question and Dean’s fucking sincere, worried eyes.

“Sam…” Dean stresses.

“Nothing, okay, ask him.”

“I will.”

The thing is that Michael doesn’t say a fucking word about what happened.

~Three~  
He can’t tell Dean, because she doesn’t let him. She is just…she isn’t strong, but when Sam is there she seems to fill up his body and even if he doesn’t feel pleasure in any way, because how could he? His body reacts anyway and she moans at the contact. The slide of skin on skin. The hard press of Sam’s dick.  
The only thing Michael has afterwards is the rage, the shame, the bruises.  
And he would leave, but he can’t because he has no idea how to fix this on his own. He needs someone to help him. He needs Dean to help him. Or Castiel. Yes, maybe. Castiel is an angel after all, he should know, he should…help.

~+~  
“Kid, what the hell is going on?” Dean asks. Maybe, because he flinched away from Dean’s hand, but he couldn’t help it, maybe because he can’t stand anyone touching him at all. He knows it’s not Dean’s fault, it’s Sam, it’s her and he isn’t even sure it’s really that girl Sam thinks it is. Because he asked about Jess and she didn’t seem to be a sadistic whore. That girl, that thing inside him, she is sadistic, she loves the sex, but what she loves more, he knows, he knows, is that he is hurting the whole time. She enjoys his pain, feeds on it and he can’t tell Dean, he can’t.

“Nothing,” she says and he wants to scream. He needs Dean to find out, he needs Dean to stop Sam from hurting him.

“Something is up, with you and Sam…Michael. Is he hurting you?”

Yes, yes! “No.” she says and Michael knows she is smiling, her cruel smile inside him. He can fell it, even if he isn’t smiling at all.

“Okay,” Dean says frustrated and Michael thinks, no, no, no!

~+~  
“Tell me what the fuck is going on here.” Dean demands. Castiel just appeared out of nowhere, his feathers are ruffled and he looks pretty beat up.

“What?”

“What is going on with Sam and that kid?” he asks.

“I am not sure. I have been in the trenches, Dean. We are still at war, don’t forget.” Castiel answers with an edge.

“Come here…” Dean says taking the first aid kit out of the drawer.

“You know…I don’t need that.”

“I know.” Dean answers, and waits. Castiel of course, sits down at his feet and lets Dean tend to his wounds, lets Dean stroke the feathers. These moments are far too seldom and he enjoys them, every fucking minute – and he still feels guilty for it.

“It’s something…with Sam?”

“Yeah…he is behaving strangely.”

“Dean…”

“Shut up, he is my brother. I don’t care that he is the boyking and that demons want to worship him or whatever.”

“It’s not over just because the world didn’t end.” Castiel says. “It’s not over because the world didn’t end.” He sounds tired Dean thinks. And he can relate. He is tired too. Tired of fighting, tired of hiding, tired of worrying about Sam, Michael, Castiel, tired of running from himself.

“Just, just tell me what’s wrong with them…” Dean says softly.

“You know what’s wrong with Sam.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“I know.”

~+~  
When he decided to follow Dean and not whoever gave the orders at the time, he knew that this wouldn’t/couldn’t end well.  
And when he lets Sam do all those things to his body (to him) then there’s the guilt, because he messed up so much by not questioning and not doing something and ignoring that sickly sweet feeling that fills his stomach at inconvenient times. Love.  
Not for Sam. He is sure he could never, not ever, love Sam. Because Sam is tainted. It’s like loving your mortal enemy. He can’t, not for anyone, not even for Dean.  
Afterwards when Sam leaves, and he always leaves afterwards (and Castiel is glad for that), he stands in front of the mirror and looks, just looks at the bruises slowly forming on his body. His hips, his wrists, around his throat. (And he can’t die from this, but he doesn’t enjoy it either.) It’s one way to battle a demon, the demon inside Sam and it’s what he can do, it’s what he will do, so Dean can stay sane through ignorance.

~+~  
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Dean asks, he cornered Michael outside a diner, as Michael went out for a smoke.

“Nothing, I told you. Sam told you…I’m sure Cas told you too.” Michael says defensively.

“I know something isn’t right…”

“With Sam?” Michael asks. “Big news there.” He laughs and it’s him, but she is amused too. He hates her. He doesn’t know who she is, but he hates her, hates how she makes him feel, hates that he begins to enjoy everything. Everything she feels. This is going on far too long.

“It’s not that.”

“What then? What Dean?” Michael wants to know, taking a deep drag from his cigarette.  
Dean keeps silent, Michael knows he is frustrated. He is too. He wants it all to stop.

~+~  
“The fuck?” Michael says. Dean looks kind of sheepish and Sam laughs wide and loud. When he’s not with her, he is Sam. He…Michael doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know and he is wet.

“Holy water.” Sam clarifies.

“I’m not possessed.” Michael answers with a quick look at Sam. He hoped it would’ve been that easy, but it’s something else. He is still him, but she is there too, biding her time, like a seed, ready to bloom. He fears the flower she will become when he lets her. (And he doesn’t know how to stop her, not yet.)

“Something is wrong with you.” Dean answers.

“I’m not possessed.” He repeats and she screams inside him. She is angry, because he didn’t deny it. But she is weak today. She was up half the night, whispering filthy things in Sam’s ear, kissing, biting, licking his skin. (And it’s always hard and fast and dirty.) Just the memory makes him blush.  
Countless times, countless bruises.

~+~  
Dean isn’t stupid. He knows Michael tries to tell him something and that he isn’t possessed just shows that it’s something else. He has to figure it out.

~+~  
“What’s that?” he asks, Castiel looks up and into the mirror to see Dean’s finger stroke lightly over his throat.

“Bruises.” He says, suppressing a shiver.

“Go figure…they look finger shaped. Someone choked you?”

“Yes. Happens sometimes.”

“Castiel,” Dean stresses. Why the fuck has everyone secrets around him? This shit is just not healthy. He himself feels sometimes like he hasn’t any secret left. He doesn’t care about it.

“I fight demons, I try to keep you safe, things like that happen.”

“No…not if you don’t let it happen. I know what you can do. I know you.”

“You know nothing.” Castiel answers getting up, Dean grabs his wrist.

“Is this…I mean.” God, how can he ask an angel for fucks sake, if he has kinky sex?

“It’s what it looks like.” Castiel answers softly.

“Okay, okay…” Dean says and lets go of Castiel’s wrist. He didn’t want to know that about Castiel, he doesn’t want to know things like that about anyone. Except now that he knows…

~+~  
“Sam, Sam, Sam…Sammy” she whispers in his voice and it sounds like an incantation. His body is hot and too tight and it burns with every touch, every bite, every flicker of Sam’s tongue against his skin, against a gash, a bruise he left there the last time they fucked. (It’s the only word he can use for it, because it’s what they do, or more what Sam is doing to him.) Fingers digging into soft flesh, and she is moaning like a whore and he blushes, he knows, because it’s not him, but he is still ashamed of how his voice sounds when Sam pushes inside.

~+~  
The cut is fresh. Vivid on his pale skin. He can’t even look at it without his mind flashing back to what Sam did the night before.

“Okay, that…I’ve had enough of this.” Dean says as Michael comes out of the bathroom. And, oh shit, why is Dean here anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to be out with Sam doing research or shit like that?

“What?”

“Put some cloths on!” Dean instructs tossing a shirt in Michael’s direction. Pants follow.

“Okay…”

“We need to talk.” Dean says and she is shifting into gear inside him. Ready to fight, ready to lie.

“Okay,” he repeats. He’s not looking at Dean as he dresses. She is smiling inside him. Michael can feel her hate for Dean. Hot and scorching. For a moment he wonders why. “Talk.” She says and he turns around. Dean is watching him, she, them.

“I know you and Sam…” he begins and she laughs.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” she purrs, he didn’t even know his voice could sound like that. Dean’s eyes widen in shock or realisation.

“Ruby!”

“Well, yes…” she says.

“How the hell?” he asks, she laughs.

“As if I would tell you, little soldier.” Wow, Michael thinks, he has a demon’s ghost inside him, or something. He didn’t even know something like that was possible. Maybe it’s not a ghost, maybe just a part…but how the hell did she get inside him. (And wow does that sound dirty.)

“What the hell are you doing to Sam?” he wants to know. His fists are clenched, he is trying not to hurt Michael.

“I’m not doing anything to him…you know he was always doing filthy, delicious things to me.” She answers with cruel amusement in her voice.

“What…” and then he understands. “You bitch!” he says and slams her (and Michael) against the wall. His shoulder blades hurt and his head. Fuck, those walls.

“Easy, we don’t want to damage anything, do we? And I tell you something else, he can feel everything, see everything, hear everything…All. The. Time.” She says and then after a beat: “And he likes it.” Which is a lie, he doesn’t. He doesn’t like it. Not like that. “See...all those finger shaped bruises? Sam made them. ALL of them.” She says; there is a smile in her voice.

~+~  
He wants to kill her, because she is a lying bitch (he thought she was a dead lying bitch, but apparently she’s not). And she hurts Sam and Michael (he doesn’t care what she did to him.)  
He isn’t sure, she means Castiel’s too, but…yeah, she does. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with Sam?

“Do you really want to know that?” she asks as if reading his thoughts.  
Maybe…Fuck, he thinks. Fuck!

“Dean…” Michael says and Dean looks at him and lets him go. She’s gone again.

“Fuck…”

“I wanted to tell you.”

“Fuck,” he repeats and doesn’t look at Michael. What a mess. What was he thinking when he let Michael stay with them. They always, fucking always lose people. Friends, family. Each other. They’re cursed, as Sam said. They're fucking cursed.

“Dean…?”

“Leave me alone,” he answers too sharply, but he can’t deal with it now. “I need to think and I need to call Bobby. You’re not leaving this room,” he adds after a pause and leaves the hotel room.

~+~  
“Fuck you! You knew what was going on!”

“I didn’t.” Castiel doesn’t look at him.

“You did, with Sam!” he answers hotly, shoving Castiel against the wall, like he did with Ruby/Michael, his fingers around Castiel’s throat. Castiel winces.

“You never want to know what’s wrong with him,” he answers. So true. Too close to home. He squeezes involuntary, and Castiel shuts his eyes.

“You don’t actually enjoy that, do you?” Dean asks.

“I…”

“Don’t lie to me,” Dean’s voice is quiet but firm. He doesn’t want to hear reassuring lies. Not now.

“No.”

“And you’re letting him, because?” He can’t say Sam, not now.

“To protect you.”

“I don’t need protection!”

“There is no one else!” Castiel says and Dean isn’t sure what he means, if there is no one left who can protect Dean, because Sam is…or if there is no one else Castiel can protect. He’s not sure it matters anyway. He lets go of Castiel and sits down on the floor of the abandoned house they’re in.

“I don’t know what she wants…” Dean whispers.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Hmm?”

“She wants to walk the earth again…she needs her blood back.”

“Shit.” Because honestly. Shit. Sam has so much demon blood inside him, Dean isn’t sure sometimes if he still is human. And it’s not just demon blood, it’s hers. “How?”

“I don’t know…” Castiel says softly.

“I need to talk to Bobby.”

“Sure,” Castiel says shrugging. It’s such a goddamned human gesture. Castiel seems more human these days than Sam and this is just plain wrong. All the things they did, all the things they did for each other and the world and that’s what they got. Fuck. It just wasn’t fair. He gets up.  
He’s two steps from the door, when Castiel says: “Be careful.” He closes his eyes briefly, squashing the urge to…do something, turn around, hug him…something, takes a deep breath and nods, before he leaves the house.

~+~  
Sam still isn’t back when Dean enters the hotel room. Bobby is watching Michael, who is sleeping, and reading tons of books at the same time. That particular skill comes with age, Dean thinks fondly.

“You talked with him?”

“Yeah…”

“And?”

“We’re in so deep Bobby.”

“Tell me something new, boy.” Bobby says with a wry smile and pours them some whisky.

“Goddammit!” Dean gulps his drink down and tells Bobby everything he knows, or thinks he knows about the shit they’re in now.

“That bitch must have been a very powerful witch.” Bobby says.

“No kidding.” Dean answers just as the door opens and Sam enters.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“You tell me.” Dean is pissed beyond anything. He can’t do this anymore, but he was thinking this for some time now.

“I really don’t know…”

“Bullshit! You know exactly what I mean. Her!” Dean says, nodding in Michael’s direction.

“It’s not what you think.”

“And Castiel,” he adds with fury.

“Look…”

“The fuck, Sam! This is…it was bad enough before but now…” he throws the glass he was drinking from against the wall and watches it shatter. The room is eerily quiet.

“Dean…” Sam tries after a few minutes. Dean shakes his head.

“We will help Michael and then…I don’t even know Sam. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I…”

And Dean isn’t sure anymore if he can do anything for Sam like he did all these years, like he thought he has to, he doesn’t. Castiel said it too, he doesn’t. And Sam, Sam isn’t even his brother anymore, because his brother, his goddamned brother, wouldn’t have raped a kid.

“Dean?” Michael’s voice is small and scared and he thinks, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“We will help you, kid. We will not let her do whatever she wants to do.”

“Okay…” Michael says, but he sounds sceptical. Dean knows why, she is listening and then there is of fucking course Sam. Sam who did unspeakable things to Michael and Castiel.

~+~  
Dean doesn’t let get Sam near Michael. He just keeps close all the time and lets her hound him. Castiel is working with Bobby on a solution to this problem, something that will help Michael and Sam. He didn’t tell Sam that. They didn’t tell Sam that they will do something. Something to get rid of the demon blood for good. Maybe because Dean isn’t sure they can actually do that, maybe because he is afraid of what Sam will say or do. After all, Sam likes it. Likes the power that comes with the blood, the rush. He is a junkie. There is no denying this.

“I’m sorry.” Michael says. He is sitting in a corner of the room, his arms around his knees. She was raging for hours on end and now she seems exhausted.

“For what?”

“For getting in such a mess…for saying all those things…for being so weak that she could slip inside me.” Michael says closing his eyes.

“It’s not your fault, kid.” Dean answers gently. Because it really isn’t. And besides he likes that kid, he is a little bit like the brother Sam could have been or…but he will not think about that kid. Not now, not ever again. He had buried him.

“I’m still sorry.” Michael sighs, burrowing his head in his hands. Dean gets up and sits down next to him.

“I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“For not noticing earlier, for not seeing the signs, for not stopping Sam.” Dean says; it feels bitter on his tongue.

“Okay,” Michael answers. It’s something Dean thinks. He lets Michael lean on his shoulder and doesn’t say anything about how his tears are soaking Dean’s shirt. It’s the polite thing to do between men.

~+~  
“So, that’s the plan…” Bobby says five days later and Dean is listening.  
The plan, it turns out, is dangerous as hell and could kill them all. Dean, Sam and Michael. But he doesn’t think this. To him, Ruby is a goddamned parasite in Michael’s body and feeding on him, because Bobby’s sure that’s what she’s doing and of course she fed on Sam’s blood already too. And besides he knows, hell, he knows…and he doesn’t want to live like that. Not at anyone’s cost. Not at Michael’s. It’s just not worth it.

~+~  
“We’re messing with really dark shit here,” Bobby reminds them, when they’re sitting in his backyard, inside a protection circle. Dean wants this to just be over. He doesn’t care and he said it already, so he just keeps quiet. Bobby looks to Michael who nods, Dean knows that he doesn’t want to live like that, with her getting stronger and seducing Sam and strangers to drink blood and kill just for the fun of it. Castiel’s nowhere to be seen, but that isn’t surprising either. Maybe he’s hunting demons or doing some shit for God. Dean is glad he’s not here. Castiel is, after all, the only angel who isn’t a complete dick. The world needs him more than Sam and Dean need him.  
Maybe Michael is the only person who deserves to be saved inside this circle.

It’s no surprise that things get a bit out of hand. Because they always get out of hand. It’s just their fucking luck. And when she stands there, fully manifested, laughing…he shoots without question. Because this has to end.

“Dean!”

“Not now Bobby!” Dean answers, because Michael is bleeding and someone needs to help him.

“Dean!”

“I know!” He shouts back, because he knows. He knows he just shot his own brother, but it was her. It was her. He knows. And maybe Sam was still inside his own body, but it was mostly her and he needed to do that. So he did. Dean always knew that this tale wouldn’t end well. Great biblical tales never did.  
When he looks up from Michael, who’s blood is slowly leaking onto the ground, he sees Castiel waiting outside. It’s the first time in ages that Dean doesn’t want to punch him. He smiles and Castiel smiles back.

~end~


End file.
